Sin Investment
by SunflowerGuardian
Summary: My first ever fanfic... Pandora Hearts meets the modern day business world. Oz and the gang attempt to make sense of the "Credit Crunch" and in the process lots of weird things occur. Here's hoping this idea of mine works XD
1. Part I

Sin Investment

PART I

It was a black and white moving photograph. The subjects' very essence forever and frozen in time, but yet still in fluid movement. A monochromatic contrast that aspired to be as photography was in the past. It was artistic, but somehow managed to reflect reality...well, almost.

Peace had captured Gilbert and transported him to some surreal image of his past. Everything was blurry and drained of colour; any sounds were soft and gentle, comforting yet not entirely there. Among them he could make out the most important sound.

"Hey Gil. Come on, follow me!" He could only just make out the smile that was carved on his friends face. "It won't be any fun without you, you know..."

Everything was a blur; though he sensed the long thick grass that reached his fingertips, and the air around the figure in front of him. The sky was bleached white; it must have been a bright day. There was a slight breeze in the air, which Gil couldn't seem to feel at all. The endless plain of grass waved periodically, his master's hair blown across his young face, a blonde shade lighter due to the sun's rays streaming through.

The young Vessalius boy looked at him through dark grey eyes; the bright emeralds that Gil had become so used to appeared dead. The hand that grasped his seemed non-existent, leaving Gil feeling slightly numb, trapped in some kind of surrealistic memory. Laughter echoed for almost an eternity as he was pulled through the grass. A disappointing sense of happiness long gone swept over Gil as he was led to some unknown destination; he almost wished he could run alongside his master for an eternity, but somehow he sensed that this could not be true.

And he was right. The person he was so devoted to stood still; a grey statue in front of him, still firmly holding his hand. A sudden ripple travelled through each grass root on the never-ending field, vibrations were sent from the soil through to the tips of each blade. An echoed thud overflowed the atmosphere. The heavy, edgy feeling of caution took over the previous emotions of Gil. He held his breath, attempting to heighten the rest of his senses within the cold black and white film he was stuck in. Another thud, stronger than the last, confirmed that danger was approaching. The grip on his hand tightened severely, surpassing Gil's numbness so that he could experience an element of inescapability.

"I'm so sorry, Gil..." The bitter voice mumbled, causing curiosity to get eh better of Gil. Twisting himself around, he made out what was the cause of his fear.

A pair of pointy ears struck through the fake white light, multiple wires cut through the air, and four paws stomped down the grass so that it was almost engraved within the earth.

It was nothing less than a giant cat. A panicky fear struck him, as he attempted to tug himself away from his friend's grip. Five more thuds, the cat wasn't far now. Gil was getting desperate, using his other hand to try and force himself free.

"H-hey..." he managed to stutter.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you go." His friend's voice replied.

Realising that freeing himself was not an option, he turned and looked at enormous monstrosity that met his eyes.

"Mrreeeeeooooow!" It screeched at him, the monochrome image reaching the point of absurdity. Yet Gil still predicted that this was the end for him...No, not just him, but for his master as well. This was the worst scenario that he could ever have imagined.

"N-n-nno, no, nooo... no, come on, hey!" He frantically tugged at half-existent clothing, trying to get his one and only friend to move.

The cat stared back at him through its dead grey eyes, and increased its pace.

"Don't, No! Nooo! ..."

***

"OZ!" He managed to yell at the top of his lungs, his voice causing a gaudy fake print to fall off the wall. Waking up with a start, he found himself on the floor. His skull stung from the headachy pain caused by the descent from a bright blue swivel chair, his head only just knocking down the paper recycling bin. A pair of clean white Doc Martens approached him, this; and the quiet whir of his computer, gave him the first signs that he was out of his nightmare.

"Well, well, well." A red eye looked at him disapprovingly, though a smile suggested that he was about to be made fun of. "He's only been gone a week and you're already slobbering over him, and on my desk too! Hmm, you know that employees can walk in here any second, it'll look bad on me if you're caught slacking off, understand?" He sighed. "Gilbert-kun, I've just gotten you out of the Nightray Transport Association, and this is how you repay me, eh?"

Gilbert sat up, running a large hand through his dark locks, even though he knew it would have no healing effect on his headache, and looked way from his colleague, staring off at the water cooler in the corner.

"Nonsense. It was you who put me there in the first place Break." He mumbled.

"Ahhh! Not exactly, I merely suggested you, and luckily, your brother took the bait." Break explained.

Brother. Gilbert couldn't understand the meaning of the word. His only family member was the person who he despised being around the most.

"And you managed to secure an important asset, just as I told you to. Doesn't it feel good to have done the most rightful company a favour? You've done well just to get a temp job here y'know..."

"I know." Gil answered in a huff. His only reason for staying employed in the Pandora Organisation was so that he could fill the time before Oz got back, secretly he wanted nothing to do with it, or Break for that matter. He finished massaging his own scalp before turning back to look at him. Gilbert already knew that Xerxes had a bizarre sense of formal dress and this day was no exception. Slim purple pinstripe trousers caught the eye first, the hems covered by his strange choice in footwear. A white shirt showed promise of some sensibility, if it weren't for the black suit jacket that seemed to have been thrown on in haste, only covering one of his shoulders. Gil could barely believe he was taking business advice from a man who dressed like_that._

He stood himself up, brushing off any dirt (not that there could be any from the plain, perfectly vacuumed carpet) from his own trousers. The dark material felt rough as he quickly slid over it with his hands. "What did you want with me anyway Break?"

"Just passing on the message. Oz is due back in only three days..." _Only_ three days? Gil thought. Days seem to drag on forever without Oz, particularly when he was stuck in a boring office block.

"...and me and Miss Sharon are going to meet him at the airport Thursday morning, I'm assuming you'll want to tag along?" There was a cold tone of uncertainty in his voice.

Gilbert reacted quickly to the question. "Of course!" He exclaimed without hesitation.

"Well, there's a bit of a problem with that... see we were simply going to get a taxi to the airport, but the numbers don't add up. There'd be no room for you after Oz and any luggage are in."

_Any luggage?_ He repeated to himself, wondering what exactly Break was suggesting.

"So we're going to need your connections if we want a larger vehicle...and Vincent will do whatever you ask of him right?" He smirked, Xerxes knew how to cause trouble and he wasn't afraid to start it, even in the business world. Gilbert had already made his dislike of Vincent clear to him, so his reaction came of no surprise.

Gil gasped. "No! _Anything_ but that! Are you sure you can't get Reim to drive us there or something??"

Xerxes laughed to himself, "We'll have to see about that..." he said as he made his way to the plain wooden door. He walked through the doorway, closing the door two.

Gilbert sighed and sat back down on the padded chair, thankful for Break's disappearance.

"Oh! And by the way..." His voice travelled through the small gap between the door and the doorframe. "Clean up your own mess will you?" Break's voice rose with annoyance, referring to the gaudy print that had smashed on the floor and the trail of papers left after Gil had awoken.

"This is MY office."

The door slammed. Gilbert took a deep intake of breath. His stress levels were rising. A quick glance of the clock added to his dread.

Office hours were nowhere near over.


	2. Part II

Sin Investment

Part II

Break went back to his office in the last hour of the working day. Having returned from an extra-long lunch meeting, he was feeling more relaxed and laid-back, and had already considered what his next actions would be.

He was only able to open the door with one hand, the chrome handle was cold and the door was opened with such ease that it flew open, showing how light and cheap the office door was. The blinds behind the thin glass window on the door rattled. Break struggled as he moved his only free hand to grip what he was currently holding. He walked a step at a time, having the mountain of papers cover up half of his already limited field of vision.

Gil paid him no attention; in fact he hadn't even noticed that he had entered the room. He was glued to the computer screen, a mug of coffee in hand. The speakers were on low so that an enthused voice seemed more like an excitable mumble, to which he gave his full attention. Gilbert moved the mug towards his lips, eyes unblinking, fixated on the screen.

This movement allowed Break to slump the whole pile of papers on the desk. They were heavier than they looked and produced a loud thud on the desk, causing Gil to jump out of his skin, the half-drunken cup of coffee threatening to spill.

"Honestly." Break sighed with a slight hint of mockery. Gil regained awareness as his attention was brought to the paper tower that had occupied most of the desk.

"What's that?" he asked curiously.

"Well…" Xerxes slid the paper tower to one side and sat on the desk, facing Gil. "…it was meant to be work, for you. Although…" He rested his head in a hand, peering down to put Gil under the pressure of direct eye-contact. "…seeing as you're _so_ busy…" He turned and glanced at the monitor.

Gilbert froze. "Uh..uhh, I was just – well you see…" The worried look on his face gave Break the joyous sense of superiority, though this had no effect on his patience.

"Well, Gilbert, are you going to spit it out? Huh? What is it?" Even though he had asked, he already knew that Gil would just continue hesitating; he turned the screen swiftly to face him.

It was some kind of video report. Judging from the poor shaky camera, and the casual clothes of the reporter, this was clearly the work of amateurs. The video title 'Credit Crunch…_again?' _as well as the strangely familiar building in the background, suddenly caught Break's attention as he turned the volume up.

The reporter continued to babble some mumbled jargon. "…and so where exactly is he? He owned the most praised law firm in the world. ..and then just suddenly disappears?? The last reported sighting of him was ten years ago in a government-controlled building, supposedly. The government has been feeding us pure lies!! Everything adds up, and I have undeniable proof that Jack Vessalius himself, walked into these buildings behind me! The former administrative offices of the Baskerville Bank! Rumour has it that he was trying to form some kind of business partnership with the CEO, Glen Baskerville, who also has conveniently disappeared for the past decade since the start of the first economic downturn. The government has made no excuses for this! They have been misleading us! Claiming that it was us who brought the credit crunch onto ourselves, when in fact there is proof that both the Vessalius law firm and this bank contributed significantly! There is no denying it! Only I know the truth! We must make a stand! Vessalius has been shut down for the past ten years, now in the hands of the corrupted Pandora organisation!! We must confront them and strike them down along with the government! And…"

Break wasn't sure whether to laugh or take it seriously. "Conspiracy theories eh? Crazy people…why don't they just mind their own business. Guess it can't be helped…" Even as he said this, he knew that this could wreck his plans.

Gil continued to sip the last of his hot drink. "I know, but Oz will be back and ready to take on the business, that's why you sent him off on this ten day training course…if they find out Oz is back, these mad theorists and the media won't leave him alone! If this gets Oz involved then I _have_ to meet him at the airport!!" He near-slammed the mug against the desk in desperation, looking depressively down at the floor.

Break gazed thoughtfully out of the office window, staring off into the distance past the grubby city skyline. "If you really are serious, then you'd ring Vincent and get us a lift yes? I was going to ring Reim but…now I'll have to ring him for _other_ reasons." His voice rose in contempt.

"Other reasons?" Gil looked questioningly at Break.

Xerxes explained, "Yes. We're most lucky and unfortunate to have a certain company within Pandora…" He gritted his teeth at the thought. "These conspiracies… we must stomp out the flames of these theorists before it turns into a media storm…and only _that_ business can do that. You understand?"

Gilbert considered the idea. "Yeah but, who's to say they'll co-operate? A-and besides…"

Break's impatience grew. "You don't have to worry about Oz! I'll deal with it! You handle these files, they're pretty self-explanatory. And then when I'm done with Reim, I need you to ring Vincent – we'll need a minibus at least."

"A…a minibus?"

"Hey, I told you to stop worrying! Oz's safety is in our hands, it'll all be under control. Now I need these files sorted or you won't hear the last of it from Miss Sharon and myself!" He tried his best not to show his annoyance, but Gil had somehow managed to pick up on it and went ahead to look through the forest-worth of paper without any further delay.

Xerxes had to take a deep breath before picking up the telephone headset.

He looked in uncertainty at the clock as the phone started ringing. As soon as he heard the clunky sound of the receiver being picked up at the other end, he returned his attention to the murky view outside the window.

He responded to an initial greeting.

"Reim? Hey, listen; I need you to do me a favour..."

***

Life wasn't easy, and Reim suspected that it was never meant to be easy at all. Everything seemed to merge into some endless coincidence. It was just a coincidence that he worked in the busiest department of the organisation. And it just so happened that somehow he had ended up being a direct employee of Mr. Barma, whilst simultaneously working for Pandora.

He couldn't remember how it got to that point, nor did he know how he was meant to progress in his career from where he was now. Everything seemed to be placed on his lap, and he obeyed to whatever life threw at him. It seemed simple enough, but his day never seemed to end.

Within the six hours he had been awake for, he had collected and dropped off a load of dry cleaning, saw the optician for his annual eye test, ran a workshop for new Pandora employees, chased up some news story, sent aspiring photographers home and coped with the demands of his boss. And then, when he had finally gotten to sitting down for his lunch at some ridiculous timein the near-evening, Break had called him.

"Hello?" he murmured.

An all too familiar voice answered. "Reim? Hey, listen; I need you to do me a favour..."

Reim sighed, feeling like his working day would never be truly over. "Now's not a very good time. The offices are closing and I'm eating my lunch so...I'll make an exception..." Even though he said this, he knew that if it was Break, everything would always be an exception. "What's the matter?" he asked, showing some concern, even though his mind was really on the ham sandwich he bought from a newsagent several hours ago.

Even though his voice was filtered through telecommunications, Reim could detect a slight worry in his voice.

"It's the Vessalius kid." Assured that it was nothing significant to Break's safety or wellbeing, he then strategically placed the telephone on his right shoulder, securing into place with his cheek as he ripped open a card box containing his long-awaited meal.

"You mean Oz?" Reim knew there were no confusions as to who Xerxes was referring to; it simply bought him time to take a bite out of the bland, manufactured food. It was ever so slightly stale and the texture was rough against his tongue, but his hunger was so severe that he didn't care.

"Yeah." Break answered, phone conversations were always much more straight-forward.

"Isn't he meant to be..." he mumbled whilst chewing, he took a few seconds, swallowed and continued, "...back this Thursday?"

A sigh temporarily made the receiving noise fuzzy. "That may be a problem now. No thanks to a few scheming government-haters. Which is why I was wondering...any chance of some kind of media back-up or security or something? It seems like it'll be fun teasing these theorists..."

Reim continued to eat his late lunch hurriedly, causing him to mumble as he replied. "If I send out Barma Corp. employees, that'll just draw more attention. As soon as they're at a scene, every other news company follows, is that what you want? I don't think it's a good idea, we're meant to be welcoming Oz into Pandora, not having the paparazzi after him as soon as he arrives."

Reim was too busy concentrating on his friend and his sandwich to notice the sound of shoe-fall in the room.

"Aww, but that'd be fun...never mind. We just need some sort of distraction to detract the attention away, some boring climate change dispute, a cheesy gossip rumour...anything from stopping the public from knowing. With Gil's obsession I'm surprised it hasn't been leaked yet, haha!"

"But..." Reim was half-way through his next mouthful of sandwich when a sudden fearful feeling of being watched came over him. He felt a familiar, shadowy presence above him. As soon as his teeth lost grip on the cheap food, a slender hand had already stolen the phone from the side of his face.

"I knew you would try and avoid me." A different voice was transmitted through the device. "It's easier just to give in, Xerxes, you know the deal." A sudden ill feeling came over Reim, and it wasn't caused by hunger.

"Tell me _everything_."


	3. Part III

**First off - I dont usually like writing any comments...but it's been two months since I last wrote anything, and I'm sorry if anyone was waiting for this or something o: I dont know...**

**I was very busy with cosplay plans and normal life in general...anyway, this took me ages to write and I kept getting blocks so if it doesnt read as good, please tell me so I can adjust it 3 **

**I was also planning on leaving it at a better part...but anyways, at least its here and its posted. Now I can put this section behind and focus feeling more fresh-minded, on the fourth part. Yaay!**

**Btw, thanks for reading, is nice knowing some people out there are enjoying what splurges out of my random head 3 lol XD**

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Sin Investment

PART III

Gil glanced at the documents he had been given to sort. Break was still on the phone. He wasn't sure what was going on but he sensed the atmosphere becoming heavier, like clouds gathering before a thunderstorm. It was hard to ignore, but he did his best to put his attention on the pink and white slips of paper in front of him. He had already figured out how he would go about organising them. They were already in a rough chronological order, so Gilbert decided to stick with this. He soon realised what the papers were for. The pink ones were Pandora copies of client transactions, and the white ones were copies of the statements to give to said clients. Gil was utterly clueless as to whether to store the pink ones separate, or to match the white and pink copies with each other and file them that way. It wasn't of importance how he did it, but for some reason he wanted to prove he could use his own initiative for once. He was only a temp worker, but as soon as his time in Pandora was finished he dreamed of switching to work under the Vessalius law firm, and for that he would strive hard for. He could already picture the scenario. He'd work as Oz's PA in a little office next to his, doing such boring tasks as filing, faxing, phone calls, all for his boss. Everyday he'd greet him with a cheerful "Good Morning sir!" and offer tea or coffee and –

"You don't understand a damn thing!" Break sneered loud enough for Gil to lose track of his daydream.

***

Rufus was thirsty, in a mental sense. Nothing new or interesting had happened in his long boring day, and he was just about ready to up and leave, quite willing to leave his employees to it as he longed to make his way back to his estate.

Even though he had become the media mogul of the century, there were days when he had just had enough. Today was one of them. There were no new facts to add to yesterday's news stories, and he had already planned the headlines for his papers the next day. It was some excuse of a report; he had one of his journalists invent some rumour about a large building company just so that there was something to cover the headlines. This was always the result of an uneventful day. There was simply no new information to scrutinize.

Now he was close to snapping. Somebody was going to get fired. Just to ease his boredom, to create some new scandal, to amuse him for a while, even though he already knew nothing interesting would come of it. It was at this point, when he was considering which measly employee to sack, that he noticed a subtle change in Reim's telephone manner in the next room.

Barma had already taken the time to study the habits of those he employed and could already tell that this was no business call. Or was it? Though it was obvious that this was a casual conversation, Rufus intended to _make_ it a business call, for his own sake.

And who else would Reim be chitchattering to but Xerxes? One fact led to another so that he was twice as keen. Then more was revealed.

"If I send out Barma Corp. employees then that'll just grab more attention...I don't think it's a good idea, we're meant to be welcoming Oz not..." Rufus heard all he needed to hear. It was enough for him to realise Break intended to use _his_ resources behind his back; and that was against the rules of the game. Intervention was no longer a whim, but a neccessity.

He strode over to Reim's desk and snatched the phone.

"I knew you would try and avoid me. It's easier just to give in, Xerxes, you know the deal." He blurted, not caring about the fact that he had interrupted mid-conversation. "Tell me _everything_."

"Ooh." Break sounded pleasantly surprised, but there were tones of dread in his vice. "My, my, if it isn't Mr. Barma...how are you this fine afternoon?"

Rufus disliked chitchat; it was harder to distinguish between fact and opinion, there was more to filter out to get the truth, and in most cases completely avoided the question in the first place.

"Does it matter how I am? This caring farce you put on really doesn't suit you."

Break laughed at this, but because of the unplanned intervention and the awkwardness of telephone calls, it seemed more like a nervous laugh.

A moment of silence followed, which Barma decided to leave alone. Things were always more exciting if there was an edgy atmosphere set up. He was stood, leaning slightly over the desk, so that his hair fell forward over his face. He would wait for Xerxes to say the first word, no matter how long that took. So he occupied himself in that short space of time. He turned to Reim, who stared at him anxiously, not daring to make a move. Reim was useless for the time being he decided, as he placed the receiver on his shoulder.

"You're dismissed." He murmured, turning his attention back to the phone. A rustling of papers and the scuttle of quick footsteps followed until the door was closed.

Assured that the office was empty, Rufus sat down on Reim's chair. It was comfortable enough, but still nothing like the leather suite he had in his own office. As he sat down a lock of red hair had snagged on a gold cufflink, much to his annoyance.

He'd deal with it later. Right now he was focussed on getting whatever information he could.

"Hehe...well. I guess that's only true for you, Barma. I couldn't really care for a guy who invades public privacy for a profit." There was coarseness in Break's voice over the phone. Now this is more like it, he thought.

"Well then, seeing as you don't care about me in the slightest, you'll have no problem telling me what I want to know. Emotions get in the way of such things, but now that shouldn't be an issue, am I right?" He didn't need to ask, he already knew he was right, but –

"You are sorely mistaken, I never said I was indifferent towards you, and I never said I'd tell you anything."

This didn't really come as a surprise, Break was never agreeable.

"Ohh.." Rufus smirked. "But if I heard correctly, you planned on using my resources for your own doing through Reim. You're a sly one ...but we've been through all this before."

"Hm." Break showed signs of hesitation. But hesitation was always good; to Barma it revealed a sense of reluctance. He was winning. There was silence again for another few seconds.

"Do you need reminding Xerxes Break? I was the only one to check back on your employment history, which was stupidly overlooked by everyone else..."

"Enough already." Break began mumbling, though the murmurs were not thoroughly picked up by the phone.

"...but that's okay, I get it. Of course a former criminal like you would have to get into a business like this by exploiting relationships, connections, whatever you call them, I understand..."

"You don't understand a damn thing!" The tension level rose, finally he had struck a nerve.

"Oh?"

"Dammit..."A heavy intake of breath crackled the receiving noise; Break seemed to have calmed down momentarily, the sound of another far off voice could be slightly heard, though it was indecipherable, nevertheless Break murmured "Never mind me...yeah, yeah I'm fine. Hey, just get on with it will you!..." His voice returned to its original volume. "I had to do what I had to do. Anyway, it doesn't matter right now. At the mo, I indeed want some of your resources Barma, so if you could do me, you and everyone else a favour and just spit out what it is you want from me that'd be grand." Though his words were polite, Rufus sensed a patronizing tone, subtle yet obvious; it was similar to someone entering a party wearing a strong but not overpowering cologne, a distinct but yet vague stench.

But at least it wasn't a 'no'.

"Hmmm. Well things are getting pretty tiresome around here but you know, I've been in this business for years, and even in moments of quietness, there's always something going on. So I figured that whatever's been happening lately has been happening without my knowledge. And then here's you, trying to sneak and use my services. The media is a tricky business ...it exists to uncover mysteries or to hide secrets, the rest is pointless prattle. So tell me, which one is it we're dealing with here, and what's in it for me?"

"We need to keep a low profile... old rumours are spreading, people are being stirred. If there's a leak, the whole of Pandora could potential be in trouble."

Rufus smiled, this was exactly the kind of trouble he had been waiting for, he leaned forwards on the chair, anticipating more.

"But that's all I'm saying. It concerns Vessalius and _that_ case from a decade ago...but I can't exactly tell you more without knowing I'm going to get your full co-operation."

_That_ case? A smile turned into a grin as he stood up and leaned on the desk casually, fully enthused. Whatever was going on, he definitely wanted in now.

"No worries. I'm a fair businessman with a strict policy about these sorts of things. What kind of assistance are you after?"

"I need a decoy, and maybe some form of security, nothing much. Anyway, would you look at the time! I guess I'll just fax you the details later..." More murmuring could be heard. "...No no NO!! Put the pink and the white ones SEPERATE! Man, you really are useless..."

"Excuse me?"

"Doesn't matter, look I'd best go, I'll fax you straight away tomorrow morning and – "

Aside from chitchat, Rufus also despised eMails, faxes and letters. Information was always better received face-to-face, when emotions could be gauged and reactions seen firsthand. And they were just another way of avoiding things.

"No, that won't do."

Barma took an extra minute to think. "Tell you what, meet me at Thyme around 12ish."

"What! You expect me to give up my lunch hour for you?!"

"Do you want my co-operation or not Xerxes Break? Think of it as a private business meeting, and claim your lunch hour back, there shouldn't be any problems."

"...Fine."

The phone conversation between them ended as abruptly as it had started. The sunlight was dying down and only silence could be heard in the small, messy budget office.

Rufus hadn't realised exactly how much energy had been drained until he put the receiver down. There was a particular kind of ache, a familiar numbness that had spread across his forehead. Seconds later he picked the phone back up, and typed in some sort of code.

"Send me my car. I've had enough."


End file.
